


In the Middle of Summer

by Cardinnal



Category: MapleStory
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hawkeye being a bro, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OC doesn't play a huge role, Rewrite, ambiguous plot device that honestly could have been written better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardinnal/pseuds/Cardinnal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mihile sighed loudly in frustration, turning in bed for the umpteenth time that night. No matter how hard he tried, or how long he waited, sleep did not come to him like it always did. Usually he'd be asleep within minutes, but tonight, something just <i>wasn't working</i>. </p><p>He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling above him. The intricate wood patterns on the cabin ceiling swirled hazily in the dark. He closed his eyes tightly and willed himself to feel tired.</p><p>The clock on the wall of his room continued to tick, echoing in the silence of night. Mihile flipped his pillow in agitation and closed his eyes again, determined to fall asleep...</p><p>...<br/>...</p><p>He could not.</p><p>With one last, exasperated sigh, he threw his sheets aside and got up. Perhaps a walk would help him clear his mind so he could fall asleep. </p><p>[Rewrite]</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Middle of Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This one's a rewrite of an embarrassingly old oneshot that I wasn't happy with anymore so I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it.
> 
>  _Very_ loosely inspired by and named after the song 'When the Day Met the Night' by Panic! At the Disco.

Mihile sighed loudly in frustration, turning in bed for the umpteenth time that night. No matter how hard he tried, or how long he waited, sleep did not come to him like it always did. Usually he'd be asleep within minutes, but tonight, something just wasn't working.

He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling above him. The intricate wood patterns on the cabin ceiling swirled hazily in the dark. He closed his eyes tightly and willed himself to feel tired.

The clock on the wall of his room continued to tick, echoing in the silence of night. Mihile flipped his pillow in agitation and closed his eyes again, determined to fall asleep...

...

...

He could not.

With one last, exasperated sigh, he threw his sheets aside and got up. Perhaps a walk would help him clear his mind so he could fall asleep.

Putting on a pair of old shoes and a tshirt, he stepped into the dim hallway of the cabin shared by the male instructors. As he walked towards the exit, he passed by Hawkeye's room. Even through the closed door, he could hear him snoring loudly and sleep-talking nonsensically like he always did. Tonight, he was talking about sharks and tornadoes. That was normal. Across from him, the door to Eckhart's room was left slightly ajar. That.. Wasn't normal. The most reclusive of the three, it wasn't like Eckhart to leave his door open.

Mihile paused in front of his door and knocked quietly. When he heard no answer, he slowly opened the door. The bed was made up neatly, and there was no sign of Eckhart. Well, he reasoned as he closed the door, the man  _was_  a Night Walker; he was probably up and about all the time in the evening.

Satisfied, he passed through the hallway and left the cabin, replacing the broken protective enchantment on the door with another as he went. Once outside, he decided to jog through the clearing where noblesse chose how they would serve Empress Cygnus and return to the cabin through another of Ereve's longer, but more scenic forest trails. Limbering up with a few routine stretches, he set off at a leisurely pace.

The path was dark and barely illuminated by moonlight that filtered through the thick clouds and the dense tree canopy. The clouds drifted along slowly with the breeze that also tousled the multitude of mid-summer leaves. The air was heavy, but not suffocatingly so. Mihile took care to not trip over exposed roots or rocks and eventually made his way to the clearing after a few minutes.

As the clearing came into view, the clouds began to pull back just enough for moonlight to shine through and light up the field. As Mihile got closer, he saw a body sitting on the ground beneath the largest maple tree. Immediately, he recognized the figure as Eckhart, his fur-lined cape and pitch black hair almost glowing in the moonlight. He leaned heavily on the trunk of the tree, and his iconic two-toned mask was missing from his face.

Mihile slowed and dropped to an alert stance. He cautiously stalked forward, eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of danger, but he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Heavily regretting that he hadn't brought his sword with him, he broke into a sprint and covered the remaining distance. Skidding to a stop in front of him, Mihile dropped to a crouch to face him at eye level. Mihile could hear strained, shuddering breaths. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and he shivered visibly beneath his thick cape despite the heat of the mid-summer evening.

"Eckhart?"

After a long moment of silence, Eckhart made a slight huff in acknowledgement, and Mihile breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"Do I look okay to you?" Eckhart grit out through clenched teeth. Violent tremors suddenly seized him and he shuddered, his entire body tensing up even further. Mihile quickly examined him for any wounds that might be causing his pain, but found none. Mihile reached out and put a hand to his forehead. It was feverish, and his brow was drenched with sweat. Eckhart started and initially jerked away from the physical contact, but relaxed to Mihile's cooler hand.

"You're very warm," Mihile commented with a frown. He removed his hand and cast a worrying glance over his shoulder. "What happened?"

"Not sure." Eckhart replied slowly, his eyes half-lidded and gaze unsteady. "Was on patrol. Poisoned, probably," he said, swallowing heavily. "That's all."

"Can you walk?"

He shook his head minutely, his entire body trembling.

"I'm going to carry you back to the cabin," Mihile promptly said. Eckhart scowled at the statement, and weakly held up a hand in protest when Mihile reached under his back and knees to hoist him into a bridal carry. "This is the best I can do for now. It would take too long to wait for a knight to pass by this area to get help," Mihile said while kneeling in front of him, seeing the uncomfortable expression on the other's face.

Eckhart shook his head and pointed at the ground where his mask was. About a stone's toss away, the golden rim of the mask glimmered in the moonlight. Mihile picked it up and handed it to Eckhart before picking him up again. His knees and shoulders ached with the extra weight, but he pushed the feeling aside to readjust his grip on the other. His body was very warm against his chest.

"Good?"

"Just fine," Eckhart breathed, clutching the mask tightly in his hands.

Thick clouds having smothered the moonlight, Mihile summoned some light and made his way back to the cabins as fast as he dared, being careful as to not jostle the weakened instructor too much.

When he reached the shared cabin, he sat Eckhart in a chair on the porch and brought the orb of light close to help him undo the protective enchantment on the doorknob. When it opened, he looped an arm around Eckhart to keep him steady, and slowly led him inside through the hallway to the front of Eckhart's room.

He opened the door, and Eckhart fell face first onto his bed, his entire body limp. "Hey, don't do that. You'll suffocate," Mihile warned, and when Eckhart didn't move, he lunged forward in a panic and turned him over. He pushed Eckhart towards the centre of his bed and moved his pillow to rest under his head.

Eckhart's face was ashen, and his brow was still covered with sweat. "Sorry," he murmured, "It's hard to move right."

Mihile took the mask which was still clutched in his hands and placed it on the bedside table. "Take it easy for now, I'm going to get you help." Mihile assured him, but he heard no response aside from heavy breathing. He closed the door behind him, and crossed the hallway to knock loudly on Hawkeye's door.

"Hawkeye," he said, using the most authoritative voice he could muster, "Get up!"

Immediately, there was a loud thud followed by a stream of quiet curses. The door swung open to reveal a dazed Hawkeye holding his knee in pain. He squinted at the sudden light. "Mihile?"

"Go call Neinheart," Mihile said curtly, "I think Eckhart's been poisoned."

Hearing that, Hawkeye immediately stood straight at attention, forgetting his bruised knee. He quickly unhooked his coat from behind the door and put it on, fixing his hair as he did so. "What about you, Chief?"

"I'm going to watch him until you get back. Hurry, would you?

"Yeah, of course," he replied, and slipping into his boots, he left the cabin in a sprint.

After replacing the enchantment on the main door, Mihile hurried back to Eckhart's room, knocking before he entered. "How are you feeling?" Mihile asked, pulling up a chair to sit down next to his bed. "Neinheart is on his way."

"It's hot," Eckhart replied, fidgeting with his cape.

Getting up to remove and set the thick fur-lined cape aside, Mihile unfolded the thin blanket at the end of his bed and covered him with it, leaving only his head exposed. "Is that better?"

Eckhart nodded weakly.

Mihile sat back down and glanced at the clock in his room, surprised to see that it was almost five in the morning. "Do you always stay out so late?"

Eckhart shook his head, his brow furrowing in discomfort when Mihile turned to look at him.

"Ah," Mihile exclaimed, immediately dismissing the orb of light that he had summoned before with a wave of his hand. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Eckhart murmured in response, relaxing into the blankets.

A few minutes of silence dragged on. Sure that Eckhart had fallen asleep, Mihile took a quick glance around his room. This was the first time he'd really been in Eckhart's room, and it was a lot more cluttered than he'd expected. On one wall hung a small poster for a band that had been popular a few years back, and on a mirror were posted a few sticky notes with Eckhart's methodical handwriting all over them. Several books were stacked neatly on a reading table and in a short bookshelf. Travel memorabilia were scattered over the top of the bookshelf; a faded subway ticket to New Leaf City, a framed picture of the Orbis station at sunrise, a tiny chipped orange mushroom keychain from Kerning Square, dried juniper flowers in a miniature vase...

Mihile turned back to look at Eckhart. Without his mask on, he looked surprisingly young. Troubled, Mihile watched him breathe. How old was he really? Mihile couldn't remember him ever explicitly mentioning his age. Probably too young to be going through so much agony, he thought, noting Eckhart's pained expression even while he slept. Something about the vulnerability of Eckhart made Mihile's chest ache, twisting his stomach unpleasantly. Confused, he leaned back on his chair and tried to calm the feeling, but to no avail.

Before Mihile had any time to further dwell on the feeling, there was a knock on the open door and Mihile turned to see Hawkeye at the doorway with Neinheart behind him. Though it was nearly dawn, Neinheart looked as alert and composed as he always did.

Mihile went to stand beside Hawkeye at the doorway as Neinheart leaned over Eckhart, speaking quietly to him and taking his pulse. After a few tense moments, Neinheart straightened and began removing his cloak. "Mihile," he said, "Bring me a damp towel, please,"

"Cold?"

"Yes, please."

When Mihile returned with the towel, he could see a faint green aura emanating from Neinheart's hands that hovered over Eckhart's throat. Beside him, Hawkeye held a capped flask containing a drop of unknown liquid at the bottom. Neinheart murmured a few words under his breath, the light from his hands turning pure white and forming a loose circle which he centred over Eckhart's chest. He let his hands rest for several seconds, before removing them, the aura dissipating.

Turning, he motioned for the towel, which he placed over Eckhart's forehead. He then herded Hawkeye and Mihile out of Eckhart's room, picking up his cloak and closing the door behind him.

"I was able to remove most of the poison," Neinheart said, walking towards the open kitchen. "It isn't anything I've ever seen before, but it's similar enough to a commonly used poison that I can slow its effects."

"What did you do? How is he?" Mihile asked, trailing after him.

"I cast minor healing and purification spells that will keep the remaining poison in check until a bishop from the Maple Alliance arrives in a few hours from Victoria Island," he said as he washed and dried his hands carefully.

"That's good, but how is he doing?" Mihile repeated, fidgeting nervously.

"Don't worry, Mihile," Neinheart said with a small smile as he took the flask from Hawkeye and stowed it in an inner pocket of his cloak. "Eckhart will be fine so long as he doesn't strain himself too much for the next few hours."

Mihile released a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding, and held a hand over his chest in relief. "That's good to hear. Thank you, Neinheart."

"Not a problem. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll need to start developing a basic antidote for this poison in my quarters." Neinheart said, buttoning up his cloak.

Hawkeye nodded from beside Mihile. "Of course," he said as he opened the door.

"The antidote should be ready when the bishop arrives in the morning." Neinheart said, taking the steps down into the main pathway. "Don't hesitate to call me again if his condition worsens."

After Hawkeye waved to the leaving Neinheart and closed the door, Mihile collapsed onto the couch in the open living room. "How could this happen?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly with the palms of his hands.

"What, Eckhart getting poisoned or you suddenly having a thing for him?" Hawkeye asked cheekily, flopping onto the couch next to him.

"Excuse me? Hawkeye-"

"Don't lie to me, Chief," Hawkeye said smugly, cracking open a can of beer. "I saw you making heart-eyes all over him when I got back."

" _Heart-eyes?_ " Mihile gaped, sitting up as he did so, "I was  _worried_  about him. Aren't you worried?"

Hawkeye nonchalantly propped his feet up on the low living room table. "Neinheart said he'll be fine, and I trust that he knows what he's doing. We just have to let the kid deal with some discomfort until then."

"Some _discomfort_ ," Mihile scoffed, rolling his sore shoulders. "If the poison was any worse, he could've died out there and nobody would've known until the next morning," he said bitterly.

"But he didn't," Hawkeye casually replied, taking a swig from his can.

"Imagine if a Noblesse found an instructor's lifeless body in the morning." Mihile rambled, gesturing fiercely with his hands. "Nobody would become a knight anymore if we can't even protect our own instructors. If I'd gone for a walk and missed him, I'd-"

"Control yourself, Mihile," Hawkeye chided, interrupting him by punching him in the arm. "Stop worrying about all the if's; you're just gonna work yourself into a panic. You found him, so why are you getting so worked up? Neinheart's got an antidote  _and_  a bishop on the way; he's gonna be fine in no time at all."

"For Rhinne's sake, he's an instructor," Hawkeye continued. "Give the kid some credit."

Mihile was silent and sank back into the couch, letting his words soak in. "It's not right," he suddenly declared, sitting up again.

"What is?"

"How old is he?"

Hawkeye was quiet for a while, pensive. "Mid-twenties to early-thirties, maybe?" he said hesitantly. "I don't think he's ever told me."

"Have you seen him without his mask? He looks barely twenty!" Mihile said, his voice becoming almost shrill. "It's not right that he's already dealing with so much pain to serve the Empress,"

"Relax, Chief," Hawkeye replied easily, patting him on the back. "You're gonna have hypertension by the time you're forty if you keep worrying about everything like this all the time. I'm sure Eckhart knew what he was getting into when Neinheart recruited him."

At that, Mihile seemed to deflate. "You're right, Hawkeye," he said, sinking deeper into the couch. "He'll be fine. Probably."

"Not probably," Hawkeye corrected. "Definitely."

"Definitely," Mihile echoed, and Hawkeye nodded sagely, taking another swig. Mihile glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Alcohol at five in the morning?"

Hawkeye shrugged, chugging the rest of the can and standing up. "Cut me some slack, I've had, like, two hours of sleep. Something's gotta keep me going later," he said, crushing the can in one hand and tossing it into the recycling bin across the room. "But I might as well make those two hours into four," he said with a yawn, giving Mihile a tired salute. "Don't forget to get some sleep Chief, and don't work yourself into a panic, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, good night," Mihile said absentmindedly as Hawkeye plodded sleepily back to his room.

With the couch now empty, Mihile let himself fall onto the entire length of it and grabbed a square cushion, thumbing over the soft fabric thoughtfully. Though he hadn't had any sleep this evening, his mind was racing as if he'd had a cup of strong coffee. How could Hawkeye dismiss this so easily? What if the ship the bishop was on crashed and Neinheart wasn't able to develop an antidote? Who would cover Eckhart's classes while he recovered? And back in Eckhart's room... What was that? He covered his face with the cushion and groaned.

He thought back to the time Hawkeye was hungover for two days and bedridden the entire time. He was worried that time, but the feeling didn't quite match. Looking after Hawkeye was nearly intolerable, but it wasn't like he could've died from it...

Was it something to do with Eckhart himself, then? He'd be lying if he didn't admit that he found him attractive. Eckhart had sharp, golden eyes, a neat, trim build, and fought respectably well. He was loyal, bright, attentive...

As his thoughts trailed on, Mihile had to stop himself. Now was definitely not the time to even consider starting anything, especially not with another instructor. They all had duties to fulfill and any relationship beyond a purely platonic one would only get in the way of serving the Empress.

 _At least, a poorly-managed one would_ , the hopeful part of him piped up.  _But the Empress comes first_ , the dutiful part of him added, and before long, Mihile had a legion of different opinions waging war in his mind. Having had enough, he slapped his cheeks to clear his mind and sat up. That didn't matter right now, he decided. What mattered was that Eckhart was going to be okay.

He got up stiffly and wrung a cool towel before he headed back to Eckhart's room, knocking again before he entered. His room was dimly lit by moonlight, and Mihile would've found the room serene if not for the worry gnawing away at him from the back of his mind. Eckhart's skin was still pale, but he looked considerably better than before. His brow was somewhat relaxed, and he appeared to be in deep sleep. Mihile carefully exchanged the towel over his forehead for the cooler one and quietly sat down. An antidote and bishop are on the way, he reminded himself, propping his head up on his palms on the edge of Eckhart's bed.

Despite the reassurance that he kept repeating to himself, anxiety continued to smoulder in him, and he had to concentrate hard on preventing it from exploding into a full-blown panic. So many things could go wrong between now and tomorrow morning.

He watched the gentle, rhythmic rise and fall of Eckhart's chest, feeling it both agitate and soothe his anxiety and begin coaxing him to rest. His eyelids begin to droop, but he stubbornly tried to remain awake. If he stayed awake for just a few more hours, he could personally make sure that the bishop would arrive and properly heal Eckhart. Then he would be better, and this whole issue would be solved...

* * *

With a gentle gust of wind, the flying ship came to a stop and docked at the quiet Ereve station. The sun was just beginning to rise on the floating island, painting the entire station tones of warm maroons and oranges. Neinheart stood in wait, smoothing down his cape and readjusting his monocle. The ship's door swung open, and a bishop clad in a white and gold robe stepped down onto the dew-laden grass.

"Welcome to Ereve, Maurice," Neinheart greeted formally. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Oh, it's not a problem," he replied, bowing slightly. "It's an absolute honour to serve the Empress any way I can."

"I trust that you've read the entirety of my letter. Do you understand that this is to be kept confidential?" Neinheart asked in a hushed tone.

"Yes, I do," he replied, tucking a stray curl of brown hair behind his ear. "Did you finish preparing the antidote?"

"Yes, mostly," Neinheart replied. "But I am confident that it will work. Come with me, please."

He lead them out of the station and through the main settlement of Ereve. A few explorers mingled about in the market in the early morning, greeting the pair as they passed. The two were silent until they reached the cabin. Neinheart swiftly undid the protective enchantment on the door and opened it for the bishop to enter first, closing it after them.

"This way," Neinheart said, leading them down the hallway to Eckhart's room. He opened the door, and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the scene. Mihile was sitting in a chair while hunched over the edge of Eckhart's bed, his head resting on his folded arms as he snored quietly. Eckhart was also asleep. Neither of them stirred at the intrusion.

Seeing this, Maurice had to stifle a chuckle. "Do you want me to wait outside?"

Neinheart nodded, and when the bishop had left to wait in the living room, he turned to Hawkeye's door. Just as he lifted his hand to knock, the door opened.

"Ah!" Hawkeye exclaimed, jumping back in surprise. "Geez, Neinheart! What're you doing standing around right outside my room?"

"The bishop has arrived," Neinheart said, unfazed by his reaction. "Help me carry Mihile to his room."

"What, did he fall asleep in Eckhart's room?" Hawkeye asked, craning his neck to look behind Neinheart.

"It appears so,"

Hawkeye chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright then, let's get him back to his room so you and the bishop can do your thing."

* * *

Eckhart awoke with a soft groan, wincing as a faintly burning sensation radiating from his chest both scalded and chilled him. He startled when he saw someone leaning over him, but relaxed when he recognized the shimmering Maple Alliance medal pinned on their bishop robe.

"Good morning, Eckhart," the person greeted warmly. He had a pleasant and melodious voice, but all that Eckhart could offer in response was a weak cough. The scaldingly cold burn was coming from the aura emanating from his hands. "My name is Maurice," he said. "I'm a bishop affiliated with the Maple Alliance, hailing from a village south of Ellinia."

When Eckhart nodded in acknowledgement, Maurice began talking energetically while healing him. "This morning when I arrived, the Chief Knight of Light himself was already here," he said, laughing brightly at the memory as he recalled it. "It almost looked like he fell asleep keeping watch over you, with his head on his arms on the edge your bed and everything."

"Mihile?" Eckhart croaked, wincing again when Maurice moved his hands to another area of his chest and the burning sensation spiked.

"Mhm," he hummed, face scrunching up in concentration as the aura over his hands glowed more brightly. "Do you remember what happened last night?"

"Was I poisoned?" Eckhart asked, closing his eyes as he tried to remember. The striking pain from the healing made it hard to think straight, and the evening came back only in jumbled pieces.

"You were," Maurice answered. He lifted his hands and leaned back, the aura dissipating.

Sitting up carefully, Eckhart gingerly touched his chest which exuded a bizarre mix of heat and cold from beneath his skin. He felt his memory return with the fading pinprick sensation of healing. "Mihile found me and brought me back here before calling Neinheart."

Maurice nodded. "You were lucky that he got you help so quickly. Any longer and the poison could have caused some serious damage. Thankfully, Neinheart was able to create a functional antidote which I've already administered. How do you feel now?"

Eckhart took a deep breath, pleased to find that aside from some soreness, nothing screamed in pain. The healing magic had evaporated into residual tingling that danced over his chest and shoulders in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. "Better. Thank you, Maurice."

"Not a problem," he answered jovially.

There was a knock at the door, and Neinheart stepped in. "Hello, Eckhart. Are you feeling better?" he asked, standing beside Maurice.

Eckhart nodded.

"Good. If you don't mind, I'd like Maurice to bless you before he goes on his way for today," Neinheart said.

"With the antidote and healing you'll be just fine," Maurice added, retrieving a heavy gilded tome which was already set on the bedside table. "But just so that we can be sure, may I bless you?"

"Are bishops required to ask for permission these days?" Eckhart asked.

He nodded, flipping open the tome with practiced ease. "It's a new statute that all clerics have to follow," he said, turning the pages until he had found what he was looking for. "There was a huge misunderstanding between a priest and an adventurer not too long ago, so now we have to ask."

"Oh," Eckhart said, lying back down. "I wouldn't mind a blessing or two, then."

"Great," he chimed, his hands glowing faintly white. "Then let's begin."

* * *

Two days later, Eckhart felt well enough to teach, so with one final healing and blessing from Maurice, he donned his gear and headed towards the instructors' meadow. Arriving just in time for his evening class, he was instantly swarmed by a small crowd of his students as soon as he stepped foot into the meadow.

"You're back!" they all cheered. They began firing a multitude of questions all at once:

"Are you okay?"  
"What happened to you?"  
"Where did you go?"  
"Did you almost die?

He held up a hand amidst the loud chatter and they immediately fell silent, standing at attention.

"I will answer all of your questions when the time is right," Eckhart said. "But for now, all you need to know is that I'm going to resume teaching as usual. The final exam date won't change."

A groan rippled through the class but it was silenced with another raise of his hand.

"I trust that you all kept up with your exercises while I was gone?"

When the entire class looked away, Eckhart frowned, though the action was hidden behind his mask. "Let's run through set C today at the training facility, then." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mihile watching him intently from atop the silver pavilion. "I'll be there shortly. Start warming up as soon as you get there." he said curtly, dismissing the class.

"That was impressive," Mihile said to Eckhart when he had climbed the stairs and leaned against the railings beside him. They watched his class arrange themselves into a neat line and walk out of the meadow, leaving it empty save for the two instructors. "I wish my junior classes would listen to me like that."

"It's just this one class," he replied.

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'd rather be teaching my students than lounging around in bed all day." he said dismissively, taking off his mask. He did look a lot better; his complexion had returned to its usual creamy toffee colour, and he looked much more rested and alert.

Mihile leaned on the railings with his elbows, overseeing the entire meadow. "I was really worried," he said quietly after a minute of silence. "I've never seen you so sick before."

"I'm getting better now," Eckhart replied, sounding caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. "The antidote that Neinheart made seems to be working well."

Mihile didn't look up, only brushing his hair aside in a nervous habit. "Unsurprising given how well-versed Neinheart seems to be in practically everything."

"What was surprising was how often you almost visited me," Eckhart said offhandedly.

"'Almost' visited?"

"You spent a lot of time hovering outside my door looking like you wanted to come in, but you never did. At least, not while I was awake."

Mihile blushed and smothered a small embarrassed noise with a cough. "Oh, you saw that?"

"Mm. I didn't really mind, though."

"You didn't?"

"No." Eckhart replied, sounding almost fond. Mihile looked up at him in surprise, but his face was stubbornly neutral and hard to read. "I haven't had a chance to properly thank you for carrying me back that night."

"Oh," Mihile said, looking back down. "It isn't really something you need to thank me for. There's no way I could've just left you there,"

"Hm,"

"... Even if you can be insufferable sometimes." Mihile said, hiding a relieved smile.

"Not like you're any better," Eckhart retaliated. He crossed his arms and leaned against the railing on his hip, eyes brightening at the opportunity for banter. "I could ask any of your students how uptight you are about every little thing."

"It pays to be prudent," Mihile replied with a casual shrug. "You never know what kind of vicious Tiguru might come charging out of the forest and attack you."

"Oh, please, as if even a measly  _Tino_  could get the best of any of us."

"It happened to Hawkeye that one time with his lunch; it could happen to you if you're not careful."

Eckhart chuckled at the memory. "I don't think I'll ever forget the face he made when he realized it was gone,"

"No, me neither," Mihile said, laughing.

They stood side by side for a few moments, enjoying each others company in the last lingering rays of the setting sun. Mihile stole a glance at Eckhart's face; it wasn't very often that he saw the other without his mask. The sunset painted him soft tones of orange and red. He looked so at ease that Mihile could've sighed at the sight.

"I should get going," Eckhart said, straightening. "My class is probably wondering where I am by now."

"Oh, I should, too." Mihile said, snapping out of his daze. His heart raced in his chest, and his face felt very warm. "I have some paperwork that Neinheart wants by tomorrow morning."

"I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah, see you later."

With that said, Eckhart turned and left. Mihile watched him go until his figure melted into the shadows surrounding the clearing. It wasn't until he was alone that he was able to breathe easy.

"Oh, Gods," Mihile groaned, leaning against the railing for support as his knees nearly gave out beneath him. The handsome image of Eckhart at sunset was so vividly seared into his memory that it was almost overwhelming. "What have I gotten myself into?"

**Author's Note:**

> Almost definitely going to leave this as a one shot.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Feel free to leave a review if you'd like to let me know what you think!


End file.
